


Thou Sleep'st So Sound

by fictocriticism



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictocriticism/pseuds/fictocriticism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They have ground rules. None of them involve turning up to Darren’s uninvited after a night out, letting himself in with the spare key locked under the letterbox, and slipping into bed with his co-star. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thou Sleep'st So Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that the somnophilia in this story is discussed previously, but there is no explicit consent given during the act itself. 
> 
> Pretentious title much? Thank you as always to the magnificent [ Nikki](www.archiveofourown.org/users/facethefall), who beta-ed and badgered me to perfection. Any remaining mistakes are my own. And as always, this is a fictional story.
> 
> EDIT: This story has been translated into Russian by the wonderful MarinaRocher and can be found  here.

 

It’s been a... long night. Chris thinks he can vaguely smell the remains of the heady cocktail of bad deodorant and stale booze clinging to his clothes and when he wipes his face his hand comes away glittering.  
  
He’d deposited Ashley on her couch before driving home, but when he reaches his driveway he realises he doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to collapse into his own, empty bed and jerk himself off to the memory of plastic guys rubbing themselves all over each other. A hot image, sure, but it’s been a long time since Chris has had skin under his hands that wasn’t his own.  
  
He takes out his phone and opens up the last text message conversation.  
  
 _DC: Are you coming to this press gig tonight, dude? Or did you get a night off?_  
  
 _Chris: Nah, Ryan said I had to do the next one. Taking Ashley out._  
  
 _DC: Jealous!_  
  
 _Chris: I’m the DD, so I wouldn’t worry ;)_  
  
 _DC: Well, you know where to find me if you get bored later._  
  
Chris bites gently on his lip and rubs his finger over the screen. _You know where to find me_ echoes in his head -- he can hear it in Darren’s voice.  
  
So occasionally they fuck. Not often, only when they need to blow off steam, or when the pressure of Kurt and Blaine gets a bit much. They have ground rules. None of them involve turning up to Darren’s uninvited after a night out, letting himself in with the spare key locked under the letterbox, and slipping into bed with his co-star.  
  
Well, he wouldn’t be _uninvited_. Darren did say to come round, if he was bored.  
  
Chris isn’t sure when he started driving again but before he realises it, he’s in front of Darren’s house.  
  
***  
  
Chris groans quietly when he pulls back the blanket and sees skin everywhere. Of _course_ Darren decided to sleep naked tonight, when he knew there was a possibility that Chris was coming here later. He looks gorgeous like this: spread out on his stomach with one leg bent up, flexing his ass. His arms are underneath the pillow, bracketing his head, and Chris suspects this is what artists look for when they’re hunting for inspiration.  
  
Chris is breathing heavily as he slips off his tight jeans, grimacing as his fingers come away glittering. Ashley’s choice of club is always a scary night, although Chris can honestly say he’s a little riled up after seeing hot (if incredibly fake looking) guys rubbing up against each other all night. He’d hoped to come to Darren awake, maybe lounging around shamelessly on his couch like he sometimes does in ratty pants and no shirt, the way that makes blood sing in Chris’ veins. And Darren just _knows_ it, will just look at Chris with his tongue on his lips until Chris has to fuck him or leave.  
  
But instead, Darren’s asleep, his eyelashes heavy, his mouth parted just a little and he’s breathing noisily. And he’s naked, naked _everywhere_ , and Chris wishes that he didn’t know that Darren usually sleeps clothed. That he usually bundles himself into gorgeous, if ridiculous, superman boxers and a t-shirt even though he gets too hot when he’s wrapped himself up in a cocoon of blankets.  
  
So this, this blatant nudity, is a ploy. It’s different. It’s embarrassingly arousing, and Chris is now pulling his shirt off and slipping his briefs down, hopefully without making a sound. He bites down on a noise when Darren heaves in a sigh and exhales, muscles clenching and releasing under his gaze.  
  
Chris pulls back the blankets completely. It takes a few movements, making sure Darren’s skin is uncovered everywhere, even down to his feet. It’s worth it though, to see all that skin spread out before him and Chris can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to his shapely ass.  
  
His hands are on his own hips playing at the band of his tight briefs. He knows how he wants this night to go but he’s almost paralysed with possibilities. Does he undress completely? Does he let himself feel Darren’s naked body against his clothed one? And perhaps most importantly, does he want Darren to wake up or not?  
  
Almost unconsciously, he finds his hands sliding his briefs down his legs, grateful that Darren can’t watch him nearly fall when they get caught around his ankles. His shirt quickly follows until his clothes are puddled on a spot on the floor and he’s feeling pinpricks on his skin where the cold air from the ceiling fan washes over his sweaty body.  
  
This is it. Chris takes a moment to drink in Darren’s body, untouched and gorgeous laid out before him. He’s so still, surprisingly; he doesn’t twitch in his sleep, and rarely moves. It’s as if the manicness of his everyday life seeps out of him every night and leaves him all floppy and sated, desperate for rest and rejuvenation.  
  
A particularly deep breath makes Chris flinch and the moment is broken. Now he’s just desperate, the unsatisfied ache he’d been feeling all night since the club returning forcefully. He kneels on the bed, pausing briefly with a check of Darren’s face -- no sign on wakefulness. Slowly, carefully, his heart pounding so loudly he’s sure it must be audible, Chris lowers himself over Darren’s body so that his knees are on either side of his hips.  
  
His thighs are tense but he forces himself to keep his eyes on Darren’s face, checking the flutter of his eyelashes as Chris settles against the tops of Darren’s thighs. He uses a knee to push Darren’s cocked leg back down, breathes out in relief when the movement doesn’t change Darren’s rate of breath.

  
  
 _“You could probably kidnap me in my sleep and I wouldn’t even notice,” Darren said, his hands gesturing emphatically._  
  
 _Chris just raised an eyebrow at him and sipped a little more diet coke and rum. “I think we know I’m the one with the sleeping problems here,” he said. “On the right drugs I’d kidnap you while I was sleeping and wouldn’t even realise until the morning.”_  
  
 _Darren laughed, his mouth wide and sinful as he brayed in a way that should sound stupid but instead was uncomfortably endearing. Chris reminded himself that sex does not equal affection._  
  
 _It was, as always, a losing battle._  
  
 _“I mean it, though,” Darren said then, voice suddenly low and almost coarse. “I don’t wake up easily. You could shift my limbs around and I wouldn’t wake up. Depending on what you did, maybe I’d, uhh--, really like it.”_  
  
 _Chris blinked, eyes snapping to Darren’s. “Really,” he said faintly. “You mean--” he started vaguely before giving up. “Really?” he asked, his voice incredulous and breathy._  
  
 _Darren nodded and then bit at his lip._  
  
 _“Fuck,” Chris breathed and downed the rest of his drink. “I’ve gotta go or I’m going to fuck you right now.”_  
  
 _“Chris,” Darren said and he sounded so small and needy._  
  
 _“Lea and Heather are_ right there _,” Chris said. “I can’t--”_  
  
 _Darren nodded, his eyes downcast, and Chris wanted nothing more than to lick his jawline until he moaned. Jesus._  
  
 _“See you soon,” he muttered, the words strangled, and dashed outside to his car. For the first time, he was incredibly thankful that Lea lived so close, because it meant it was only 7 minutes before he could jerk off as soon as the garage door closed behind him._  


Chris has to take a steadying breath, suddenly completely overloaded with what he was about to do. Darren had given him permission, really, he’d indicated definite interest, and combined with the text message from earlier and his nakedness...  
  
And then Chris has a hand on Darren’s ass.  
  
It is spectacular. Hot and firm under his palm, familiar and yet still not known. Chris is already hard, has been turned on most of the night, and he lets his weight fall completely onto Darren, gasping as his cock grazes against the curve of Darren’s inner thigh. He’s hairy here, hairy everywhere in a way that has Chris’ stomach clenching. He loves the feel of it against his own smooth skin, especially the way it tickles against his cock.  
  
He lets his hands roam upwards, dipping into the dimples on Darren’s lower back and across the broad expanse of his shoulders. Chris feels wired and heated through but Darren’s skin still burns even hotter underneath him. His focus is drawn to every point of contact; his palms on Darren’s back, Chris’ ass on Darren’s thighs, the way his cock sits snug along Darren’s cleft.  
  
Darren shifts minutely, a snuffling breath escaping his lips, and bucks his hips almost unnoticeably. If Chris hadn’t been sprawled across him, he wouldn’t have realised, but as it is all Chris can pay attention to is the way his cock looks lying heavily against Darren’s body. The tiny shift of Darren’s hips sends Chris’ dick bouncing, and then all bets are off.  
  
Chris grabs two handfuls of ass in his hands, gripping tight and heaves in a breath. He’s still quiet in the nearly silent room, the gentle buzz of the ceiling fan the only noise aside from their breathing, but he’s on a mission now. He’s going to slide inside this man beneath him and that won’t change if Darren wakes up or not. Chris is gentle when he slides a finger between Darren’s cheeks, questing softly and biting his lip at the burning heat he finds.  
  
He can’t stop the moan that he lets out when his finger grazes the rim of Darren’s asshole and immediately encounters a slick wetness.  
  
“ _Jesus_ ,” he breathes, and watches eagerly as he finger slides in neatly. There’s no resistance and Darren’s wet, and Chris has to grip himself tightly in one hand to stop from coming all over Darren’s back. Because now he knows that Darren has been lying here tonight, probably naked, lubing his fingers up and fucking them into himself, loosening himself up for Chris’ cock.  
  
The image is delicious and Chris has a second finger inside immediately, testing the stretch and closing his eyes tightly when he feels Darren’s body just give and give and give around him. He slips his fingers free and wipes them on himself in a cursory attempt at slicking himself, but it’s obvious Darren’s gone overboard with preparation.  
  
Chris takes a deep breath and spreads Darren’s ass, grinning at the way he instinctively shifts his hips up in his sleep. Darren’s breathing is getting heavier, almost but not quite pants, and it’s thrilling the way his body is relaxed and open, _trusting_. Chris lines himself up and pushes in smoothly, groaning low as he encounters no resistance. It’s barely a moment before he’s all the way in, pressed tight against Darren’s ass, and it’s really, _really_ hot in a way that Chris had never realised he wanted.

He wants to tie Darren up like this, wrap his arms around the bedhead so that even if he wakes he can’t move. He wants to spin him over so he can see the surprise on his face when Darren wakes with a cock in his ass. He wants to fuck him -- and he is, he’s sliding out and pressing back in firmly, almost leisurely -- and Chris doesn’t know if he wants Darren awake or not.  
  
He’s shifting relentlessly now though and Chris knows he isn’t far from consciousness. It’s enough of a motivation to start thrusting harder, feeling the way his body goes from open and loose to clenching and tight around him. Darren’s hips are thrusting against the mattress and little moans are leaking through his lips on every other stroke and it’s fucking amazing, really, everything Chris almost didn’t realise he wanted tonight.  
  
A sliver of glitter falls out of Chris’ hair onto Darren’s back and it heralds the moment that Darren jolts awake with a panicked gasp. His body tightens impossibly around Chris’ cock and it sends him groaning loudly, moaning Darren’s name. Darren twists his neck and meets Chris’ eyes and it’s such a shock to see them open after watching so closely all night, that Chris feels his stomach and his balls tighten immediately.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” he says, “fuck, I’m gonna--”  
  
And then Darren makes a sound half like he’s dying or like he’s laughing and then he’s bucking hard against the mattress and _coming_.  
  
“Did you--?” Chris manages and then Darren jerks forward, shivering like he does when he’s oversensitive, and it dislodges Chris abruptly. His cock catches on the rim of Darren’s hole and then slides up the line of his cleft and it’s sudden and wet and smooth and Chris is coming all over Darren’s back and ass. He thrusts weakly through the mess, once or twice, and then lets his weight fall back down onto the back of Darren’s thighs.  
  
Everything’s still for a moment, and then Darren wriggles and Chris takes his cue to shift off. Darren’s a _mess_ , covered in sweat and come and actually a little more glitter than Chris realised at the time. He looks phenomenal and Chris desperately wants to take a photo despite how risky it is, wants to be able to look at this view over again and again.  
  
Then Darren looks at him, grins his toothy wide grin, and the view just got impossibly better.  
  
“Hi,” he says, voice scratchy with sleep. “That was a nice way to wake up.”  
  
Chris bites his lip and swallows hard. “I hope that was okay,” he says, and suddenly his earlier rationalisations feel like no defence at all, feel like random pieces that he’d placed together to make sense out of nothing.  
  
Darren just grabs his hand, brings it to his lips and kisses it. It’s soft and _ridiculous_ , like something out of an old-time movie, and it makes Chris want to cry.  
  
“I loved it,” Darren says, and Chris feels his lips twitch in relief and then he’s laughing. Wholeheartedly and probably loud enough to sound a little crazy, but Darren joins in. Chris wipes the tears from his eyes, uses his shirt to wipe the mess of Darren’s back and for the first time falls asleep naked in Darren’s bed.  
  
And in the morning, it might be awkward or uncomfortable because they don’t really do morning afters. But if he’s really lucky, maybe Darren will sleep late and Chris could try blowing him, see if he can get Darren to fuck his mouth in his sleep and then come all over his face in surprise when he wakes up.  
  
Or maybe, just maybe, they can try that another morning. Maybe they can make a habit out of it.

 

 


End file.
